Trevor Maynard (11th September 1963 / Rochford, Essex)
The Weights About My Feet Do Not Stop The Motion of The Waves
The seagulls are muted and the sea crabs are close
Gnawing at my shroud
Bang Bang went the bullets and “Martyr” shouts the crowd
Was it a success, my life of populist jihad?
Was I merely another example of so many good ideas made bad?
Was it a triumph, my end in ultimate redaction?
Was I merely another example of the consensus of moral action?
I can’t judge, I can only be judged,
No doubt most will see my end as just
(Indeed a fucking must)
After all I did kill many thousands in a philosophical wanderlust...
What is sure is that one man’s quest for evil or good
Is only a single man’s journey
And that, love it or hate it, there will be another soon
Creating and/or destroying our humanity
The hawks cluster and doves are further away now
Admiring my christening gown
Whirr and flash go the fireworks welcoming the new clown
(written on the death of Osama bin Laden)
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